


Don't Give Me Up

by aobox



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: Crying, Gen, Hugging, I don't know what I'm doing, fricking fight me, groot is genderless, it's really sad and then it gets really happy, lots of swearing whoops, please don't give trees genders tho, quill says one line, rocket swears when he's frustrated and sad, the character death is canon, there is crying, this is too many tags, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 20:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2123046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aobox/pseuds/aobox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last time Rocket had cried was when he was turned into this mess. Experiment after experiment, being torn apart and put back together more times than he was aware of, amongst the torture and the pain and the screaming. This time, it was Groot's death. And the pain was so much worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Give Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> A small drabble I had an urge to write the night after I saw the Guardians of the Galaxy movie. Mainly implications of Groot/Rocket (if shipping a tree and a raccoon is even a thing) but nothing too serious (oh my god if i find porn of these two my faith in humanity is ruined). Anyways, hope you enjoy it!
> 
> P.S. Italics are both emphasized words, and extra thoughts Rocket has. Also, Groot has no pronouns! Because Groot is a tree and does not have nor even understand the concept of gender. (Hence, “learn your genders!”).
> 
> For maximum sadness, listen to [this](https://soundcloud.com/sans0n/not-about-angels-birdy) while you read.

When Groot gave up, when Groot “died”, Rocket didn't know any better. He wasn't thinking, that fucking wooden face engraved so deeply in his mind that he didn't feel the impact of the dirt below him. Didn't feel the pain, didn't feel anything. And when he launched himself at Ronan, he couldn't stop his limbs from carrying themselves forth to their utter end. The next impact he felt though, the ground hitting him almost as hard as Groot's gentle vine brushing his cheek did. Almost.

And when they held that stone, that stupid little purple stone that _killed_ Groot, Rocket took the “space” inside of him with the strength of both of them. As if Groot was still there, towering above him, by his side. Like he always was. But when it was over, when they had “won”, Rocket's mind wasn't so blank anymore. Groot's death hit him like a fucking tidal wave, picking him up and dragging him with it out to sea to drown. And drown he did. Everything he chose not to feel, in all those centuries of pretending that he didn't care, came rushing back to him. The utter emotion he never had the chance to feel held his head down in that wave, and the moment he tried to breathe his nostrils took it all in, lungs burning from the salt, chest heaving for air that it couldn't reach. He thought he was dying. And if he wasn't, he wanted to. So fucking badly Rocket wanted to crawl over to one of the larger remains of his best friend's - no, not that, Groot was much more than that - carcass, curl up inside of it, and set himself aflame. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to tear his fur out and rip his heart out and just fucking die here because there was no more reason to live if he didn't have Groot. He didn't have anything but that stupid, beautiful piece of wood, so didn't he deserve that? Couldn't he just fucking get what he wanted for once?

But that wasn't allowed. And after years of shit, absolute shit - now sitting in the pile of sticks that was the only one who could ever make him realize that it wasn't shit at all - Rocket had grown to have more control than that. He didn't get to where he is now from freaking out, and Groot would be disappointed if he let himself go now. So that's why he sat on that rock, exactly why he sat and wept it all out, screams in the form of tears soaking his fur and staining the dirt. The thought passed, “Is everything going to be in Groot's honor how?” and he would've laughed at how pathetic it was if he wasn't clutching the most important twig in existence in his very hands. Or claws, he didn't know anymore. He didn't care. He cried that out too.

When Drax touched him on the head like that, his eyes widened from false hope. Something in him sparked, some memory somewhere of Groot patting him on the head for reassurance. Groot's long wooden finger scratching right behind his ear to ease the stress built up inside of him. But when he turned, he saw it wasn't Groot at all. Of course it wasn't, but he was still surprised by who he was looking up at. Drax, out of all people? Rocket didn't have the strength to talk without choking up, and didn't care to try, so he left him be. As he held Groot in his hands, head being softly petted by someone he could maybe, just maybe, come to terms with, he had an idea. Not an idea, but a hope. That Groot could be alive again.

It was risky, even though Groot had grown back plenty of times before. But not like this, not after getting his head blown up into a million little pieces. Even so, Rocket had to try, and he found himself in ownership of a pot filled of rocks with a stick poking out of it. It was awful to look at, and Rocket couldn't stop asking himself, “Is the head it? Is the head what needs to be kept intact?” Rocket was so close to breaking down again so many times, but he waited. Groot was the patient one, not him, but he tried his hardest to hold back all of the tears threatening to drown him whole.

Rocket didn't know how long it had been, didn't know how to count time anyways with them traveling all around the galaxy constantly. But when he saw that familiar face form itself onto that twig before his eyes, he forgot what time was. Was this real? And Drax confirmed that yes, it was a face he was seeing. It wasn't moving, but it was there. Rocket sat there and stared at it, waiting for it to move for what could've been minutes, hours, or days. He didn't care. He had to know if this was real.

The rest of the “Guardians” left him alone, letting him deal with what he needed to deal with. Which Rocket was grateful, because he didn't care for the persistent lies of “I understand, my mom died when I was just a little boy.” That didn't mean he understood. That meant he had felt loss before. But to imply that anyone was as close to anyone the way he was to Groot, that they could care enough, that their _whoever the fuck_ was blown up saving them, he couldn't stand it. So they let him be, alone, staring at a twig.

But then that twig _moved_. Rocket wasn't sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him. But then it moved again. And a more defined face formed, so familiar yet so small. And before he knew it, there was Groot. When the small thing opened up its eyes, Rocket felt something he never had before. And when it yawned and squeaked out a small “I am Groot.” he felt his heart burst. And Groot allowed him to let out all the tears he had been holding back ever since the last time, and that's what Rocket did. He sobbed into his hands, out of pure happiness, but this time he didn't drown. He drained. All of the water was let out of him, and he felt lighter than he had in his entire life. Everything could be okay again.

\---

The second time around, Groot was... different.

Well for one, the chlorokinetic was certainly a lot more cuddly. So much so, that Rocket had to tell Groot to quit it on more than one occasion. It wasn't that he minded the extra attention, not at all. It just wasn't the most pleasant thing while he's furiously trying to pilot a spacecraft away from people trying to kill him. “I mean really, there's a time and a place, little guy.” Rocket found himself saying exasperatedly one time, blowing up some asshole chasing him down while doing so.

But on their rest rotation - which everyone was given, something Quill said about “conserving energy in order to perform their best as the guardians blah blah blah” (Rocket didn't entirely care) - things were of a different matter. Groot would drag himself closer to the raccoon with the little strength that he had, and, if you could call it that, cuddle him. Rocket never asked for the contact, never reached out and said anything about it. But he never pushed the small sapling away, and that was probably why Groot kept persisting about it. It was how they knew. They often didn't need to speak with words, after centuries of only having each other they'd grown as close as two living beings can. Not that Groot would say anything other than “I am Groot,” but that wasn't the point.

Another thing was that Groot was much more childish. Or at least, the dumb shit he did seemed much more fitting in such a small body. He still had his memories, Rocket knew that for positive, and he was still who he was. But Groot loved tricking the others on the ship and playing little games with them, and even though they were sometimes unwanted, Rocket got a kick out of it. Groot was the same as he's always been, but in a little body, he could get away with so much more.

Same went with the “cuddling”, though. Maybe Rocket let him get away with it because he was small and naive and _adorable oh my god I mean he was the most beautiful thing before but now he's so small and cute I want to protect him from the world_. Those thoughts were idiotic though, and Rocket had a laugh about them often. I mean, think of it, something that was _how_ many times his size, this huge lump of a wooden beast, vulnerable and small? But it also gave hope to the raccoon, knowing that they could grow up together again. Learn more about each other. And laying there in that uncomfortable excuse of a bed, thin wooden vines curled around his neck and abdomen, Rocket knew.

They would be alright.


End file.
